


Sheogorath and The Mysterious Stranger

by Spatz82



Series: Sheogorath [1]
Category: Daedra - Fandom, Daedric Princes - Fandom, Elder Scrolls, Love - Fandom, Oblivion - Fandom, Romance - Fandom, Sheogorath - Fandom, Skyrim, Winterhold - Fandom, insanity - Fandom
Genre: Daedra, Daedric Princes, F/M, Insanity, Sheogorath - Freeform, Shivering Isles, Skyrim - Freeform, oblivion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22376629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spatz82/pseuds/Spatz82
Summary: A mysterious woman wakes up to find herself in Sheogorath’s realm, the Shivering Isles.  Unable to recall her past, Sheogorath enlists her to aid in his fight against Jyggalag.  Will yet another one of the Daedra’s hair brain schemes fail, or will Deirdre, the mysterious stranger, help him finally succeed?
Relationships: Sheogorath/OC
Series: Sheogorath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770940
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will never upload a story that is unfinished Nothing is more enraging than getting absorbed in a good story and being let hanging by a story that never gets finished I write and finish all my stories offline before uploading!

SHEOGORATH’S VIEWPOINT

Sheogorath sat on a chair at the side of a bed with an unconscious young woman laying in it. The woman apparently not only made it to the Shivering Isles, but managed to reach the palace steps before she collapsed.. One of the Auriels brought her in and put her in an empty guest room. Sheogorath came in shortly after she was put in bed. He was delighted that he didn’t know why she was here, who she was and where she came from. He had fun guessing and the uncertainty of it was great.

“My Lord, what do you plan to do with her?” Haskill mentioned.  
“I believe it’s time for a celebration! We’ve not had a mysterious visitor in so long! Cheese for everyone! As for her, I won’t skip rope with her intestines… at least not yet. What’s the fun in tearing out someone’s intestines and playing with them if they don’t even know and see what you’re doing? I want to find out what’s she’s doing here first. He rested his chin on his palm. He looked up at Haskill with a gleeful grin. “Oh, I do love the unknown of it all! Haskill you’re dismissed for now. I want time to guess as to why she’s here”. Is she a spy? OooOoo, the intrigue! Is Sanguine spying on him again? Or perhaps Mehrunes Dagon, he was always a problem child. He actually didn’t remember anyone ever spying on him, but it doesn’t mean they never have! Oh, what did it matter anyway…”  
He reached out and gently touched her face, tucking a strand of long brown hair behind her ear. She was indeed beautiful and looked as if she were Breton. He had a strange feeling about this woman laying peacefully in front of him. He wasn’t sure whether it was a bad gut feeling or good gut feeling, but that didn’t matter to him. Uncertainty was a wonderful thing and he looked forward as to how this all would play out. He wondered when and if she would awaken. That was delightful too, not knowing if that would even happened. Maybe he’d have an unconscious woman tying up his guest room for eternity. He chuckled. Wonderful! Perfect! Hilarious! 

“My Lord” Haskill stepped forward to Sheogorath’s throne, cautiously. His Lord looked bored and that was often a dangerous, dangerous thing..

“What is it, Haskill, can’t you see I’m busy being bored? Ah, you must have come to entertain me then” His voice darkened and a slow cruel smile slowly grew on his face.

“No, my Lord. I’ve come to bring news that the young woman has awakened.” Sheogorath leapt to his feet. “I thought you might want to visit her, as the hospitable thing to do.”

“Make sure nobody disturbs us Haskill or I’ll be decorating my throne with the innards of the fool that does so.”

The room was empty, with nobody save him or the woman, who was now sitting up groggily in her bed. He sat in the chair that he’d frequently sat in the past week. Now she was awake! She looked at him confused and spoke.

“Who are you? Where am I? What happened? I… I can’t remember who I am!” She looked stressed.  
He was thrilled! His boredom was certainly gone and more and more questions meant more and more things to guess at. Oh, this was going to be fun!

“I am Sheogorath! The Daedric Prince of Madness! I do love that title! So fitting, wouldn’t you agree? You are in my Realm, the Shivering Isles. I’d actually like to know myself why you are here.”

“I don’t know, I really… nothing looks familiar. I don’t even know who I am as I said, nor where I’m from! I can’t remember anything!” She started sobbing. Empathy was something he actually understood, his moods being all over and chaotic. 

“Perhaps you’ll remember later on. Right now, you are welcome in my palace. You will be fed, clothed, and cared for. If you need me, send for me.” His voice was not completely devoid of delight however. He was overjoyed that a mess of a woman had come to visit. “Do you have a name?”

“I…I don’t know. I remember nothing, Lord Sheogorath” She shook her head.

“OooOoo, how about Mystery, Rare Delicacy, Thing, no, no, those won’t do. How about Deirdre? We’ll all call you Deirdre!”

DEIRDRE’S VIEWPOINT

She opened her eyes and her vision was blurry as it adjusted to the dim light. Where was she? Then the sudden realization hit her. She didn’t even know WHO she was or where she was from! She tried hard to remember something, ANYTHING, and all it proceeded to do was give her a worse headache. Suddenly she realized that a shadowy figure was standing by the doorway.

“You seem to be awake. How do you feel?” It was a male voice.

“My head hurts.” she managed

“I am Haskill, Lord Sheogorath’s chamberlain. You are safe in his palace, your wounds have been tended to.” He simply stated. “I will inform him that you have awakened.” The figure of Haskill disappeared.  
She laid in bed, feeling a bit to dizzy to stand up. She didn’t need to wait long before a loud voice bellowed out “She’s awakened! A celebration! Cheese for everyone!” A relatively attractive man, dressed in purple finery and looking like he was in his late 40s to early 50s, strolled in with a cane. He said nothing, and sat down next to her and seemed like he was waiting for her to speak first.

“I assume that you are Lord Sheogorath? I’d offer you my name…. only problem is I can’t remember it. She looked down at her hands in shame. “I don’t even know why I’m here or where I’m from.

“Oh well we can’t have that!” He started a list of ridiculous names and finally stopped on the name Deirdre.” He suggested “And indeed I am Sheogorath! Daedric Prince of Madness. Sounds good doesn’t it?”  
She tried to think of what a Daedric Prince was and couldn’t, so she just muttered that Deirdre was fine. He started prattling on and on, emotions fluctuating. He sounded like a raving lunatic, a madman. Yeah, Prince of Madness sounded about right.

“Well, you look like you need more rest, perhaps you are hungry? A bit of brain pie maybe?” He leaned in close, very close and whispered “Care to donate?”  
He leaned back in his seat.

“Uh, no thanks, but thanks for taking me in and everything you’ve done”

He leaned in again “Let’s see if you’re saying that in a week.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journey to get a special crystal

SHEOGORATH’S VIEWPOINT

Sheogorath lounged on his throne, thinking of butterflies and how he made every single hold guard in Skyrim believe that they had all been adventures until they got an arrow in the knee. That was a good one, it confused a lot of citizens and adventurers alike hearing all the guards say the same thing. He chuckled, a good memory. Perhaps he would keep that going for a few thousand years. He was the Daedric Prince of Madness, and dammit, he would do what he wanted when he wanted!  
His thoughts turned to Deirdre, the mysterious Breton woman that literally collapsed on his doorstep. She’d already been here a month and it amused Sheogorath that her memory was as blank as it had been when he first spoke with her. A blank slate is always a fun one to work with. People never “accidentally” make it all the way to his palace. She must have been here to see him. Ask him something? Challenge him? Who knows? Maybe we never will know, he thought to himself.  
She didn’t recognize his name or even know what a Daedric Prince was. He wondered if some mage was responsible for her memory loss. It seemed too… complete.   
He’d seen her wandering about the Palace, but he was loathe to make her a citizen of either Mania or Dementia. There was something intriguing about her that made her more than citizen material. He loved her fragmented mind and hoped it stayed that way. She entertained him, which was enough of a reason to keep her around, at least in his book.  
He leaned forward on his cane and rested his head on the top. He wanted to test her, feel her out. What would be a worthwhile quest, a bit dangerous, but not something likely to kill her. If it killed her, she would be little use to him and such a waste.   
Ah, he found the perfect task for her. He had heard of some crystal shard that might just beat Jyggalag! He sighed, in the next few years he’d be changed back into that boring, boring, BORING Daedra of Order. No color no excitement, nothing unique! He hated Jyggalag to the core of his being. He also knew Jyggalag hated him equally. Thinking of the Daedric Prince of Order always put him in a bad mood, He didn’t recall any of his rival half’s memories, he COULDN’T. It was beyond him to think about anything orderly and organized. His realm was chaos, not order  
The curse, ages old, he thought about more these days with the coming Greymarch in a few years. He didn’t ever want to be made whole again if it meant being HIM. He couldn’t handle the thought of being always boring and logical. He would rather remain the Mad one.  
Now he was in a pissy mood.  
He summoned Haskill and his chamberlain instantly appeared. “Yes, my Lord, what can I do for you.?”

“Haskill, you’re dismissed.”

“Very well, my Lord” He turned around and walked away and out of the throne room. About five minutes later Sheogorath summoned Haskill. The chamberlain, sighed and looked resigned. He knew he was going to be his Lord’s plaything for a while.   
The Mad One giggled and dismissed his chamberlain again. This repeated over and over again over for a good part of an hour.

“You’re such a good sport, Haskill, I’m glad you love this game also. What would I do if you didn’t!” He let out a hearty laugh.  
He spotted Deirdre heading out towards the palace grounds

“I’m so excited! I was just thinking of you, my dear! Come over here!”  
Deirdre didn’t look to happy, but followed the order.

“I trust you’re feeling well? Now we can’t have that, can we. We’ll need to fix that.” He didn’t wait for a response. “I have a task for you. You seem to be more than what you seem, seamless? No seams for you!” He cackled. “You’re going to be helping me with something.”

DEIRDRE’S VIEWPOINT

It had been about a month since her arrival. Her wounds had healed and she was worried that her welcome was beginning to wear thin. Lord Sheogorath had asked nothing in return for clothing, protecting, and caring for her. Nobody else had made any comments either, but she was no freeloader. She wanted to be useful. She had wandered the palace and the two city districts of Mania and Dementia. She had no idea how people could willingly live in such a dark squalor. Mania, on the other hand tended to be too excessive, and downright hedonistic at times. Still with the extremes, she preferred Mania. She had quickly learned that there seemed to be no happy medium with Sheogorath  
Today she was going to enjoy herself on the palace grounds since the weather was beautiful. She silently slipped out of her room and down the hall to the throne room. It was always darkly light by several torches lining the carpet to the throne, one side the fires were purple to represent Dementia, and the other side was orange to represent Mania. She was halfway to the door when Sheogorath seemed to notice her. 

“Deirdre! I was just thinking about you! Come here!” He boomed. She made her way to him and stood before him. “I have something you can do to make yourself useful around here. After all, if you are going to stick around, then it’s time you start carrying your weight.” He looked her over. “Which you do well already, but that’s a story for a different day. Maybe a rainy day, or never, or sometime, whatever.”

“What do you ask of me, my Lord?” She was relieved to finally be able to do something to earn her keep around here.

“Ask!? ASK!!!!? I don’t ASK! I TELL. My realm, my creation, my rules!” He nearly screamed at her.   
Deirdre was mortified and took a few moments to mutter an apology, that the Daedra didn’t acknowledge.

“I want you to go to a cave in the far south-east of Dementia. It’s not on the map but I’m sure you’ll locate it just fine. I have the approximate location and will mark it on a map for you. Now where did I put my maps.” He summoned Haskill and demanded he get a map. “It’s time to save the realm! Rescue the Damsel! Slay the Beast!” Haskill returned moments later with a folded piece of paper. He made a few marks on it then refolded it and stood up. Standing up, he walked a few paces toward Deirdre and handed her the paper.  
This was the first time she stood next to him while he was standing. She was a bit taken aback by how tall he was. He was about a full head taller than her. Men usually were either her height or, at the most, half a head taller. What really struck her, however, wasn’t his height. It was his eyes. He had always sat or stood in shadows so she had never really gotten a good look at his eyes. Now she marveled at them. They were a deep yellow with slitted pupils and no whites, like a cat. She was mesmerized by them and couldn’t look away.

“You’re tall for a Breton. Perhaps I was wrong about your race. Not that I’m ever wrong of course, but you know.” He took a step closer. She wondered if he was trying to intimidate. She stood her ground, though, even though her comfort level was screaming to back up. If he took another step, even a small one, they’d be touching noses. His scent filled her nose. It was almost smothering. She seemed to have an extremely sensitive sense of smell. He smelled of Juniper and a sent uniquely his own. He smelled very, very good, but definitely not…human. “And you are also quite brave.” He started laughing hysterically and stepped back, then returned to his seat.

“Your eyes… I’ve never seen anything like them before,” She quietly commented, almost distantly.

“They’re real too! Not a fake bone in them! Not that eyes have bones, but still a point that must be made. “He chuckled. “Do you know where I got them? Whether I plucked them from a corpse, or perhaps I ripped them from a beast’s skull? Hmmm?”

“I… am not sure. I assumed that you always had them, since you are not human to begin with.” She didn’t mention his smell. She thought that rude.  
“DING! DING! DING! We have a winner! A prize! The winner always gets a prize! What’s the prize this time! Dismemberment? No. Being a Daedra’s pet? Temping, but no. Ah! I know! The prize is to get your ass out of here, read the instructions I gave you, and do what I told you to do!” He glared at her. She backed up slowly, then turned to leave.   
As she put her hand on the door handle he added “And if you’re ever wondering, yes, I know what you are and that’s between you and Hircine. I couldn’t care less. Go on a killing spree in a city and I WILL care at that point. Use your gift wisely.”

As she cut her way through a swamp in the southernmost reaches of Dementia, Deirdre was troubled by the last thing Sheogorath had said. He said he knew what she was. She was human obviously, so what did it mean? She shook her head. And Hircine? Who was that? How could something be between two people if she’d never even heard the name before. She was considering asking the Daedric Prince when she returned with the crystal.   
She had also found some strange pendant on a chain the morning she left on her nightstand. She hadn’t heard or seen anybody come in, so she thought it a gift from someone. She had made a number of friends in Bliss and Crucible, so it could be from one of them, delivered. It could have been Sheogorath himself, but she doubted that. She enjoyed chatting with him mornings, and he seemed to as well, but she thought he was the type that would have said something crazy and snarky when he gave it to her or at least when he saw her to send her off on this errand. When she had examined it, it was a stormy grey, her favorite color, and since she’d never told anyone that, it must have been coincidence. When she had put it on, she realized it was enchanted.  
She found that she was incredibly stealthy and quite the archer, was this from the pendant, or former skill, she did not know. She did know it was definitely appreciated in this case.  
She still found herself thinking about her past. She’d made no progress in retrieving her memories, and it irritated her that Sheo, as she’d started to call him when he wasn’t around, took some sort of delight in it. He was gleeful over other’s victories as well as their misfortunes. Yes, definitely the Prince of Madness she had learned how accurate that title was over the last month. There was truly no way in understanding him.   
Ah! The cave! After digging around for a day, she found it! It must be it because it wasn’t marked as anything on her map, but was in the circle drawn. As she ducked under some vines, her foot squelched into something and it wasn’t mud. And incredibly putrid odor hit her nostrils and she dry heaved. Looking down, it was a dead, decaying Grummite. She swished her boot around in the muddy water to get the muck off her boot dry heaving yet again.  
The cave was eerily lit by softly glowing crystals, those obelisks she’d found all over the shivering isles were also in here. The bluish hue was bright enough to not need the torches she had brought.   
She was looking for some crystal shard, cold as ice and dark, yet bright. That’s all she had to go by. Basically she was looking for a weird shard.  
As she made her way through the main hall, it was littered with crystalized skeletons, seemingly made of the same substance the obelisks were. How could that be though, did they get turned into that substance? She picked up a few of the smaller bones and pocketed them. She would show the Daedra when she returned. She began realizing these were not caves but underground ruins to some ancient temple. Strangely, there was no sign of life, no sound, so very silent. There, were plenty of obelisks, though. And room after room, hall after hall she noticed a pattern to them, as if they were directions on how to get through the temple. She began noticing strange etching on the walls, language of a different sort, nothing she’d ever seen before. They were eerily perfect in design, placed and carved just so, there was no tilt, or wavering in size, no change in spacing. 

“These aren’t Sheogorath’s” She muttered softly to herself as her fingers traced the etchings.  
She had never seen anything so flawlessly arranged. She had never seen such perfection in The Shivering Isles. Would the Lord of this realm even understand it? She doubted he could understand order like this. He hardly understood order of any kind. Still she would report this and he could look further into this if he’d like. The only “flaw” in this place were crumbled walls and stairways. The ages of time had taken their toll, as they always do.  
She finally approached an elaborately carved door, doing the order of this place justice. She marveled at it before opening it. It led to a small, empty chamber with four corners and a pedestal in the center. She stepped up to the pedestal, and a beautiful glowing darkly colored crystal dagger, with silver hilt lay on a dark velvety cloth.  
She reached out to touch it and pulled her hand back. It was impossibly cold, colder than ice even. Even the hilt was as such. It was the chill that would burn your hands if you held it too long. She wrapped it in the soft velvety cloth and noted she couldn’t feel any cold through it. She place it carefully in her pocket, sure that this was the “crystal” she was sent to recover.  
She heard a cracking sound and then half the room caved in. She heard crumbling behind her and in the distance. Glancing at the pedestal, there was a button that the dagger was positioned on. It must have kept the place in tact until she disturbed it. It was a good thing she had noticed the pattern in the crystals to escaped quickly. So much for coming back to examine the writings on the walls. She raced toward the exit and as she lept over some fallen pillars a piece of ceiling fell, smashing her right shoulder and nearly knocking her to her feet. She screamed with pain, almost tripping but managed to grit her teeth and sprint the rest of the way out, the sounds of rumbling and cracking glass behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeking knowledge

SHEOGORATH’S VIEWPOINT

Sheogorath turned his thoughts toward the legendary crystal he had learned about. Sources came from various places, but the most information came from   
Skyrim’s College of Winterhold. The crystal was Jyggalag’s, but the Prince of Madness didn’t know why it existed, what it was for, or how to use it. He didn’t even know why the Daedra of Order sealed it away in such a location as he did.

He wondered how Deirdre was faring. He hadn’t heard from her in about three days. He doubted she was dead. He didn’t take her for a fool because she certainly wasn’t one. She’d be back soon enough.

As evening progressed a Mezdan suddenly entered his throne room and immediately stood before him.

“Yes?”   
“My Lord, Deirdre is back. She’s not in the greatest shape and a doctor is tending to her wounds. Haskill will report to you as soon as she is ready to be seen.”

He felt a twinge of panic when he heard she wasn’t in good shape, and then immediately pushed the feeling out. She was an expendable mortal, he reminded himself. If she was wounded or died it was for the greater good. These things happen. Preferable that she NOT die, of course. 

After some time, Haskill appeared and lazily said “She’s ready to be seen my Lord.”  
“Have you offered her some good wine to ease the pain?” The Daedra questioned. 

“Yes, she’s fairly comfortable. She’s a little bit out of sorts because of the wine, but nothing to be expected differently with that. Apparently she has good news to report.”  
“Oh! This should be fun!” He skipped down the hallway.

The door to her room was cracked open. He pushed it slowly open and quietly made his way to the chair by her bed. The movement of him sitting down caused her eyes to open. The way she looked was more than tipsy, she was positively loaded. She smiled stupidly over at him.

“I did it Sheo!” She slurred.

Sheo, that was cute. He waited for her to continue.

“Found the cave! I did it! But…” She motioned for him to come closer as if it were critical it be kept a secret between the two of them.

“Only it wasn’t a cave! It was a tiny opening in the ground, but when I got inside…”  
She proceeded to projective vomit in his face. Thankfully most of it was wine as she’d not eaten recently. He froze, his eyes closed, then he proceeded to roar with laughter. This was the most hilarious thing that had happened in a while and he could go for a hearty laugh with all this Greymarch shit hovering over the horizon. He just couldn’t stop laughing.

“Sorry, I puked on you” She said idiotically.

He just laughed even harder. He wiped his sleeve across his face to at least dry it a little. “Continue” He laughed through tears.

“Anyway… it wasn’t a cave! It was an underground temple. The floor was littered with…. These… entire skeletons….” She went to grab them off the nightstand but instead the pouch went straight to the floor.

“Oh! Ooops!”

He bent down and picked it up. He opened it up and dumped several crystal finger bones into his palm. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of things. He always forgot nothing ever made sense anyway. 

“Entire skeletons and bones just like this?”

“Yep! And strange..” She proceeded to dry heave a few times. “And strange writings not from you. They were far too symmetrical, uniform, I have never seen anything so eerily perfect. It was creepy”

“Jyggalag…” The Daedra muttered. Oh, his enemy from ages past. He felt anger well up within him, but really, should he have expected anything different? Wait! He WANTED this to be of Jyggalag! Euphoria flooded over him!   
“We’re going to beat him this time! He doesn’t stand a chance this time! This is good! Even if it’s bad. But I think it’s a GOOD good thing!

“Whaaaaa….”

“No need to worry your little brain about the details. We need to return to the temple and see the details of these carvings”

“Not going to happen. The whole place came down around me when I picked up this” She gestured to the nightstand.

His heart leapt into his throat. His mind was racing. He who is me, but not me who was and will be although not at the same time! Do we really stand a chance?  
He gently wrapped his fingers around the cloth and picked it up. This was it! The crystal! She had retrieved it! The cloth was a deep blue velvet. When he uncovered it, chills went down his spine. It wasn’t a crystal shard like he’d expected. It was far, far more! He held a dagger in the cloth. The blade was some crystalline substance similar to the obelisks and was a deep, impossible blue. All the cuts, down to the smallest were perfect, flawless… expected from Jyggalag of course. He stretched his fingers out to smooth them over the dagger and the moment he did he regretted it. He jerked his hand back immediately. He examined his fingers, and found them burned, frostbitten actually. “Colder than ice” left his lips, barely audibly.   
He looked up at Deirdre and saw that she had passed out.  
“Thank you” He whispered, and left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A serious discovery

DEIRDRE’S VIEWPOINT 

Deirdre woke up with a terrible headache wondering where she was. Jerking forward, an excruciating ripping agony resonated in her right shoulder.

“You may want to treat that shoulder with care. The doctor worked hard to set the bones back in place.” A familiar voice droned on. She relaxed and laid back.

“Haskill, I need to speak with Lord Sheogorath! He needs to know about the cave and the dagger!” Deirdre exclaimed.

“Ah, yes. The dagger and bones you had” Haskill sounded bored. “Yes, you spoke with him last night. You may not remember, as you were quite tipsy. He actually would like to speak with you as soon as possible. Best not to keep our Lord waiting too long, he gets rather… creative, when bored, so we try to keep him from getting to that point too often.”

“Riiiiiight…” Deirdre sighed. Gritting her teeth she slid her legs over the edge of the bed slowly standing up. Looking up, Haskill was gone. She carefully dressed herself, mindful of her shoulder.  
She softly padded down the hallway to the throne room and noticed Sheogorath with a book in his lap. He seemed quite absorbed with what he was reading and it took him several moments to notice her. He suddenly slammed the book shut and looked at her.

“YOU!!” He sprung to his feet, book dropping to the floor. “Are going to help me stop Jyggalag!”  
She jerked backward, painfully, startled at his sudden outburst.

“Who’s Jyggalag???” She demanded. “I keep hearing his name thrown around, but never any explanation as to who he is. All I know is he’s an enemy of yours.”

“Deirdre, Deirdre…” He plopped back down, ignoring the book. He looked angry. “Jyggalag has been my enemy of ages past. He is the exact opposite of me. Therefore he hates me, hates everything to do with me in fact! The Daedric Prince of Order!“ Sheogarath leaned forward. “He arrives at the end of every era and destroys everything I’ve worked so hard to build. Tears it all down, I tell you! I’d invite him for biscuits and tea, perhaps a few unwanted visitors roasted on a spit… But when he’s here, I’m gone” He was snarling now, catlike eyes fully dilated, he looked down right fearsome.   
He slowly sat back, his pupils still huge. Deirdre kept her mouth firmly shut, but her eyes must have betrayed her.

“You see, little mortal, Jyggalag dessimates everything here in my realm, leaving me to pick up the pieces, and when I come back, there are lots and lots of pieces. I can’t remember where everything goes! Especially New Sheoth, ESPECIALLY New Sheoth! I always forget where I put it last and that’s the most important part of my realm! It’s the capitol! I really like it where it is this time, don’t you?” He stroked his beard thoughtfully.  
“Where do you go? Can’t you fight him?”  
The Mad One broke into laughter, dark laughter.

“And where do you go, mortal, when the beast takes over? Are you separate from yourself? At least you still have memory, feeling…. All still attached! I? I get nothing except he gets all!” His voice lightened. “But you’re going to help change that, aren’t you! “His voice grew more sinister “Because I asked nicely…”  
The Daedra sat back in his throne cheerfully, as if nothing had happened. Deirdre glanced at Haskill. He looked completely unfazed by the events that just unfolded.

“Together we’ll stop Jyggalag from destroying the Isles. It’s almost his time to walk again, or run. He never skips or struts. Mostly he just destroys everything around him. Then, when he’s done, I get to come back to the ruins.”

“How am I going to help?”

“A good question! Isn’t she a good sport Haskill?”

“Of course, my Lord”

“We’re going to find out more about that dagger, for one. That Temple was Jyggalag’s and the dagger is too. You know now because of their perfect and flawless nature. This is all new, and new is good! It means we haven’t tried it yet and since we’ve never succeeded stopping Jyggalag, this might work!”

“So where are we going to get more information?” She was now quite curious as to what was going on.

“Don’t interrupt me. I interrupt me. Nobody else does. Well, except when they do, but that’s not the best choice. Especially not for a mortal… wouldn’t you agree?” His voice lowered as a slow, cruel smile spread across his face, and his teeth gleamed with the fires burning before his throne. “Let me speak. Hold your tongue, or I’ll tear it out.” He continued “The most information I’ve ever located was at the College of Winterhold. So you’re going to Skyrim! Oh isn’t that exciting! An all expense paid non-vacation to see if you can dig up some more knowledge on the dagger or that temple now. You’ll leave tomorrow morning through a portal I’ll open up for you in the Fringe. You’ll also be given an item you can contact me through to let me know when you’re ready to come back.”  
He waited while she continued to stand there. “Well, what are you waiting for? Do you have anything else to say?” The Daedra asked half-heartedly, twirling his cane

“Yes, actually, Lord Sheogorath.” She stepped forward “You spoke of knowing what I am, and of Hircine. I’ve thought and thought about it, but all I know is I’m human and know nothing of this Hircine.”  
Sheogorath stopped twirling his cane and looked hard at Deirdre.

“REAAAA-LY?” He stretched, looking amused. “You’re saying that you have no idea what you are? Oh what a hoot!” He laughed “I know you can forget memories, but I certainly didn’t know you could forget what you ARE. I myself don’t have that. Jyggalag may have all my memories, but at least I know I’m HIM”  
Deirdre stopped dead in her tracks.

“You are Jyggalag?!” She questioned. She couldn’t believe it. “You’re forced to shift into someone else and have no control over the matter?”

“Oh, you’re a clever little mortal aren’t you, figuring that all out by yourself.” He smashed his cane into the arm of his throne. “Of course, I never came right out and said it. It’s a curse, ages old. I rule this realm, build it to my liking, become all happy and comfortable, then the era comes to a close and the Greymarch begins, it’s Jyggalag’s time to play. He doesn’t play, of course. Jyggalag doesn’t know how to have a good time. He’s not very popular at parties you know, He’s just boring, boring, BORING! No originality or uniqueness in him.” Sheogorath spat the words out. “We’re on a tight deadline. I can feel it in my bones, the Greymarch is coming. Jyggalag is coming and you’ll see his knights soon. Not the cute and cuddly sort, I can tell you that. You’ll know them when you see them, all boring, grey and mindless. And then Jyggalag will be here and I will go. And when I see you again, I will not recognize you and I will destroy you. “ Was that pain in his expression? “So that’s why we need to stop him, because I don’t want to be forced to clean up his mess again, and since I don’t have access to his memories, I don’t know why the temple was there, or what the significance of that dagger is.” He smiled. “I can feel it, something about stopping him is wrapped up in this dagger. We’re going to win this time, Deirdre. I always lose but this time will be different. With your help we’re going to win!”

SHEOGORATH’S VIEWPOINT 

The cat was out of the bag now. Deirdre knew his secret, that he himself was Jyggalag. She know knew that what they were doing was stopping him from changing, from destroying everything he worked so hard for, mainly everything.   
She was going to be his Champion. And here she stood before him ready to go, like the good little Champion she was. Maybe she’d even enjoy herself along the way, he hoped for that. He stopped himself. Why should he care whether she enjoyed herself or not. She was merely a tool, wasn’t she? A tiny, puny little mortal. 

“I’m ready, Lord Sheogorath. I’ll be leaving now. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Good, now go, scoot. Really, I don’t want to see you until you’ve completed your little errand.” He realized, once those words came out of his mouth, how big a lie they were.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College business

DEIRDRE’S VIEWPOINT

Deirdre gazed up at the tall massive gates, the ancient College of Winterhold loomed tall into the heavens as the wind whipped and howled and snow fell from the grey skies.  
The College was absolutely breathtaking, far more than Sheogorath’s palace. It was absolutely awe-inspiring. Did this place truly hold the key to what they were looking?  
Suddenly she heard a roar tear through the sky and screaming coming from within the courtyard

“DRAGON!” Someone screamed  
A WHAT? Dragon? Dragons don’t exist! What’s going on??? Her mind raced, trying desperately to grasp thoughts, no time for thoughts!  
She was knocked off her feet by a grand shaking of the ground. The world was spinning, she felt her body changing, lengthening. A Roar ripped through her lips, no, her MUZZLE, and as she swiped at the monstrous lizard, vicious claws, HER claws, cleaved scales. Flames blew through her fur as a howl escaped her throat.  
The massive dragon took to the skies and swooped down, spells blasting against it’s black hide, and it released a surge of flames from it’s maw that struck an elf to her left, engulfing him in the blaze as he screamed while his flesh incinerated.  
The dragon circled, and continued circling, and finally flew in the direction of Winterhold proper, probably to wreak havoc on the city where there was far less capable protection.   
Deirdre watched it, her chest heaving, suddenly aware of the low rumbling coming up from her throat. Her vantage point was much higher than it should have been. She looked at her arms, and was shocked to find black fur covering long, powerful limbs, razor-sharp talons tipping, paw-like fingers. Looking down, massive clawed paws braced the ground.   
She… was a … WEREWOLF! Sheogorath… How did Sheogorath know??? How did SHE not know????  
A crowd of people were gathered from the Dragon attack and they all stared at her. It was deathly silent.

“What?” She tried to protest. All that came out, however was a growl.

Deirdre dumped her pile of books on Daedric, artifacts, and Jyggalag specifically, then sprawled across her bed and picked one up. She ignored her roommate as she opened her book.

“Hey” The young dunmer woman said. “I’m Melvena, although you can call me Mel.

Deirdre flipped her gaze up at the interrupting woman. “Do you know anything about Daedric artifacts?” 

“A little bit. My father studied up on them so I know probably more than the average person. Why? Are you researching about them?” Mel looked at her roommate quizzically.

“Only about a dagger that apparently was Jyggalag’s. I’m trying to find out what it is an how to use it.” She sighed.

“Jyggalag? There’s not too much information on him.” The dunmer pointed out “His name is very rarely mentioned. “I didn’t know he had any artifacts.”

I found a dagger but left it at home. It was a crystalline blue blade, colder than the coldest ice, it burns the skin when you touch it too long. The hilt is silver. It’s creepy how flawlessly perfected each cut is.” She was deep in thought remembering the artifact, which let her mind settle on Sheogorath, who she left the blade with. She kind of missed his eccentricities and madness.

“Where did you find it”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Deirdre sighed.

“Try me.” A sly smile crossed Mel’s face.

“Fine, my memory was wiped clean, complete amnesia. When I woke up, I was in the Shivering Isles, in Sheogorath’s palace. I knew nothing, didn’t know my name, The Prince of Madness is the one that gave the name Deirdre.” She took a deep breath and continued “After I woke, I met him and after a few weeks he sent me on an errand to a small cave just discovered for the dagger. He didn’t know what it was, but felt absolutely sure it was Jyggalag’s.”

“That IS a pretty tall tale, but I strangely believe you. Have you ever heard of Planewalkers. They are powerful mages that can travel to various planed in Oblivion, the “jump” can trap a traveler in a certain realm and when it happens, their memory is wiped completely clean. Maybe you were a Planeswalker and you got stuck in Sheogorath’s realm! I knew a Nord in Morrowind who was a Planeswalker. He’s name is Siggurd The Traveler. You may want to seek him out someday.“ She sounded so excited to meet someone who actually had traveled in Oblivion. “What’s a Daedra really like?”

“Completely and utterly insane, sometimes a bit sketchy” She merely stated. “At least Sheogorath. You have no idea unless you actually meet him.”

“Is he cute?” Mel said with false innocence 

“MEL! Really???” Deirdre looked shocked, and the dunmer dropped it.

“You like him, don’t you!” The Dunmer squealed with glee. “Does he know?”

Deirdre blushed. “Ok, fine. I do. I don’t think he knows, well, I never said anything. I don’t even begin to fathom his abilities”

“So tell him. Make a move”. 

“He’s a DAEDRIC Prince... as you know, and as I said, I can’t even begin to understand what powers he has access to”. Deirdre sighed. “I’m just a mortal. Why and how could a Daedra love a mere mortal? Can he even feel love? Aren’t we just toys and tools to the Daedric Lords?”

“Just don’t miss an opportunity. Make a move. I would”. Mel encouraged. 

SHEOGORATH’S VIEWPOINT 

Sheogorath was moody, no, downright pissy. He had everyone treading on thin ice with his aura of sinister gloom. It started a few days after Deirdre had left for the college.  
Damn woman. Sheogorath didn’t expect his thoughts to be on her so much after she left. It’s not that he was worried she would fail the errand and disappoint him, no, he KNEW she would succeed. It’s just that things weren’t the same without her around. It was irritatingly simple the issue, or perhaps it was simply irritating. Or both, he scowled  
He had had Haskill fetch his Wabbajack and a mud crab to entertain himself. Let’s see how many different things he could turn the thing into. The crab wasn’t too happy about being hostage in the Daedra’s throne room. As it tried to scuttle away, Sheogorath gave a nod of the long slender staff in his hand. Poof! The mudcrab disappeared and was replaced by a Draugr Deathlord. It immediately looked at straight at its summoner.

“Fus-Ro-DAH!” A powerful boom, like a thunder clap resounded and shook the walls of the throne room, sending Sheogorath sailing through the air, over his throne. He slammed against a wall, as the armored dried out corpse chased after him. As the Daedra got to his knees, he said “You really shouldn’t have done that”

The undead warrior’s response was swinging it’s ebony greatsword, leaving a long, deep gash in in Sheogorath’s shoulder. “Enjoy the view” the Daedra growled, and a flash of green enveloped his assailant and it disappeared.

He flung the Wabbajack across the room and stormed back over to his throne, his wounds already reknitting themselves. He crossed his arms and scowled. No, things weren’t going well at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love

DEIRDRE’S VIEWPOINT

Deirdre had been at the college for about 2 weeks and she had only found one lead so far. An old temple in the Shivering Isles a short distance away from the city of Bliss called Xelsem. She was fairly optimistic about the whole thing. She’d been wondering recently how Sheogorath was faring back home… listen to her now, she was calling his realm home. But really did she have anywhere else to label that? No. She sighed. Her feelings were confused about the Deranged Daedra.   
She felt ready to return back to him and report what she’d found out. She had hiked out to the West, in the mountains, thinking it a bad idea to summon a portal right outside the college where plenty would be there to witness the action. Pulling out a black piece of rope she hurled it on the ground.  
It took her 2 days to make it from Passwall back to New Sheoth. As she opened the door to the palace, the Daedra immediately turned his head toward the door. He bounced to his feet as she walked down the carpet toward him. He was wearing a huge grin she’d never seen him show before.

“I presume you have something for me myself or I. Take your pick!” He laughed out loud.   
She took a step toward him, into his personal space. He quizzically cocked an eyebrow at her but didn’t step back. She gazed into his slitted golden eyes, and swallowed her nervousness, Mel was right, she needed to make a move. She intertwined her fingers into his. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth as if bracing for some sort of threat and she worried that she’d made the wrong move. His lips crashed into hers and he opened his eyes. He wrapped one arm around her waist and another held the back of her head pulling her close. As he stroked her hair he whispered, his voice cracking, “Stay with me tonight” 

“The Lord Sheogorath is ready for you in his chambers” Was that a hint of amusement in Haskill’s voice?  
Deirdre had spent hours making herself pretty for the Daedra. With help from the servants and Haskill, her outfit completely clashed, but was strangely elegant. Her makeup was absolutely perfect. She looked beautiful before, but she was absolutely gorgeous now. Although nerve wracked, she was ready for whatever came next. With confidence she strode down Sheogorath’s hallway.   
She found him sitting in a chair by a table full of food and drink. The smells were amazing. She suddenly felt shy. He was wearing a suit, half red, half purple. 

“Good evening, my Lord”. She blushed

“First matter of Business, I am he. He is me. But not to you!” He burst out laughing “Sheogorath is my name, use it or out come the intestines, and I, I skip rope with them. Not sure who’s I would use, not yours... I don’t think. And Haskill is like a good hound. Don’t want to put him down. He’s too useful”. He looked thoughtful. “ second order of business, you look positively stunning, my love.”

SHEOGRORATH’S VIEWPOINT

“It’s beautiful here”. Deirdre breathed. They were on the roof of his palace. The scenery was incredibly gorgeous. 

“Indeed, it’s a place where I bring everyone I’ve invited for dinner. It always ends up with them being the dinner, but that’s not relevant to our little outing”. Was he being serious? Deirdre cringed. “Actually I’ve never had dinner with another person”. She relaxed. “And nobody has ever been up here until now. I’m so happy, I could just push you off the edge! This was always an area I would come to contemplate honeycombs and dragonflies. Things like that, you know”

“You’re so beautiful”. and he meant it as she slid out of her dress. He hung his jacket on a chair, watching her. He had always found her beautiful, but never really thought much about it until recently. It was only when she was at the college, he realized how much he loved her. Damn woman. But it was change. Change was good! Even if it was bad. He felt pain about what Jiggalag was going to do to her that made it bad, which, well, wasn’t good at all. He pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his bare chest, then dropped his pants.

“You’ve taught an immortal, an ancient Daedra what it really means to love someone”

She dropped the last of her clothing to the floor and stepped out of them. Now that they were naked, he pulled her close to him. He kissed her deeply, passionately, running his hands softly over the contours of her body. She shivered at his touch, wanting more. He took her hand, kissed it, and led her to his bed. She sat down. 

“Your linens... they’re so soft”. She smiled, gazing into those cat eyes. 

She slid under the blanket, and he followed suit. Kissing her again, he positioned himself on top of her

“Are you ready for me?” He whispered

“Yes”

That’s why he missed her so terribly, why he felt so protective about her, why he worried about her, because he truly loved her. She wasn’t just some “puny, expendable mortal”. How could he have let himself fall in love with a human? He was a Daedra, and not just any Daedra, but a Daedra Lord. He heard her breathing softly, her arm slung across his chest, and realized just how little time he had left. He’d been experiencing more and more moments of clarity, like now. He frowned, and kissed the top of her head. He found himself drifting into a restless sleep knowing that when Jyggalag took over, the beautiful woman in his arms would be slain.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyggalag

The next morning Sheogorath sounded frantic as he sat on his throne.   
“You need to go find out what’s in this Xelsem. I knew there were ruins there but not that there was anything under them. I have never heard of it, but your information from the college has located it as a temple made for Jyggalag. Either that or the place found you, perhaps. You are linked somehow to defeating my other side, but you need to hurry, I feel different. Not quite myself, but not HIM either. The Greymarch has begun, knights have been spotted and have killed a few of my citizen while invading several villages. They are making there way here, the grey BORING, mindless servants of Jyggalag. They are spreading order, no, Order is spreading them. I have little time left, my Love.” He looked pained, “You won’t like him like you like me. He doesn’t even carry a cane, more the bone cleaving sword type, not the cute cuddly sort of Daedric Prince. QUICKLY!” He screamed ”Jyggalag certainly won’t wait!”

DEIRDRE’S VIEWPOINT 

Deirdre stood in front of Xelsem ruins. She had scoured the ruins for any way in. She had found no door, nor had any caves been located nearby. She didn’t even know where the way in had been. How was she supposed to get inside? She’d even spent the night there and had found nothing. She didn’t want to go home to Sheogorath empty handed and fail him  
She gave it one more day, she had no food but wasn’t hungry. Stress had that effect on her. Still there was nothing, so downtrodden she made her way back to the palace. She was powerless to help her Sheo, she had failed him, and that knowledge was extremely painful.   
She returned home, and was surprised to see the Daedra standing outside at the top of the steps. The obelisks on either side of the pathway were glowing strangely, and Sheogorath had a look on his face that was grim and his eyes showed no emotion. It scared her, frightened her. He never had that look in his face since she’d known him. He was always so full of emotions, and responded to them in like fashion.  
He greeted her with words that sent shivers down her spine. “Time is an artificial construct. It moves ever forward in a linear fashion, ever forward, never back. Our time has run out, there is no stopping Jyggalag now, as he has won yet again.”  
He dropped to his knees and bellowed in a voice not quite his own “The Realm is dead, Sheogorath is dead. I have loved you, Deirdre, but you too shall die by Jyggalag’s hand!”  
He started to glow brightly, and his body began to shift form, lengthen and lose color. “The realm is dead! That fool Sheogorath is dead! All shall crumble by Jyggalag’s hand! You will die first, mortal!” Knights began to pour out of the obelisks and Sheogorath’s solders met them in bloody combat. Jyggalag came at Deirdre, swinging his massive blade. She realized he slower than she was and dodged blow after blow. She had no weapon other than Jyggalag’s dagger. She couldn’t even defend herself. She felt pain explode in her left side as a knight struck her with his sword from behind. She screamed, as she felt her organs rupture, and with her last effort she leapt behind Jyggalag and onto his back. He tried to rip her off him but couldn’t reach her and a final cry left her lips, “I loved you Sheogorath!”. She plunged the dagger deep into the neck of the Prince of Order. A blinding light followed an explosion and she was blasted backward into the palace steps.   
As blood pooled around her, she was vaguely aware of her surroundings, of the bloodbath caused by combat. She saw Jyggalag now, and when he sheathed his sword, his knights followed his lead. He approached her alone and lowering on one knee, he pressed his hand against her side, where the gaping wound was. She felt as if things would go dark, but the pain gradually subsided. 

“Sheogorath…” Her voice was nothing but a whisper.

“Mortal, “Jyggalag spoke “Using my Dagger of Singularity, you have returned me to my true state. You have become my Champion without knowing it, and I have repaid you by returning your ruined body to an orderly state. You shall not die. “He then added “You will rule this realm at the side of Sheogorath”

“But Sheogorath is dead!” She sobbed

“But he is not, he lies in a crumpled heap by the left obelisk. But he will awaken. I was trapped within Sheogorath. He thought us the same person, however we have never been such. You have purged him and returned me to roam the planes of Oblivion. Please keep the dagger as a token of my gratitude. I sense that your quests and legacy are not quite over, and you will continue on your path, pursuing your destiny as the years pass. These are my last words to you, mortal. Perhaps our paths will cross again someday.”  
He turned and walked away, his form fading into Oblivion as she watched him go.

**Author's Note:**

> This may or may not be followed by a sequel


End file.
